***
It was another misty morning in Gamran Mire. The sun climbed wearily into the sky casting a wan light over the lagoon. It seemed as though the whole world was reluctant to rise. Dekor opened his eyes and turned to look at Taarl.
"My sweet," he said blinking the sleep from his eyes, "your skin is no longer pale."
Taarl smiled emphatically. "And you have my eyes. Only… blue!"
"Yours too are blue, as dark as the ocean." Dekor kissed her deeply, his hand tracing the soft curves of her body. "You are warm. Gone is touch of night." Taarl giggled.
Smiling she pulled Dekor's body against her own. “I feel so young."
southbound
"Zillah."
Dekor, standing with his hands behind his back, called his faithful pet. Zillah appeared, looking expectantly at him sniffing either side of her master leaping about like puppy waiting for someone to throw a ball. Dekor held out his hands, from them hung an enormous razor fish glistening wet. Zillah part-roared-part-barked taking the fish gently from Dekor's hands she tossed her head back swallowing it whole. Icthus padded over to Zillah climbed up onto her back looking down at Dekor he sighed.
"I will back as soon as possible." Dekor took Taarl in his arms kissing her repeatedly, "Those are for while I'm away."
"I'll treasure them," Taarl hugged him tightly. "Go, before I won't let you," she said pushing Dekor gently toward Zillah who picked him up dropping him onto her back. Zillah sniffed Taarl drawing her nose back sharply. Tentatively she sniffed Taarl again then licked her face. "Lovely," Taarl said scraping the drool from her face.
"I think she finally approves of you," Dekor laughed pulling on Zillah's flight scales.
"I'll see you when it's time," Taarl shouted at their backs watching them climb into the blue sky.
Dekor and Icthus looked down on Gamran Thorn their minds filled with very different thoughts. Dekor wondered at the beauty of the flowers blossoming all over the Thorn. Icthus wishing that he could grab a few more berries for the journey. Everstill River shone like a brilliant scar dividing the lands as they crossed the border into the wetlands of Meregith.
"Do the goblins not like water? There are no dwellings, I thought they liked marshes?" Dekor said tightening his belt to stop his cloak from billowing over Icthus.
"Too much water for them, and there are the lagartos. Goblins like mud and filth," Icthus said watching the world pass by beneath them.
Meregith stretched out before them, a patchwork of giba woods, torn-up meadows and crude houses hewn from mud and sticks. Gone were the flowers carpeted meadows. Broad dirt roads stretched from one end of Meregith to the other dividing the land into smaller territories each filled with hundreds of goblins some herding humans like cattle into tattered barns. Goblins mounted on skitterlings patrolled the roads ahead of undead on horseback, their mounts nothing more than skin-covered bags of bones shambling along on petrified hooves. Only Kelross retained any of its former glory. The sparkling walls had a smattering of mud and filth where the goblins stood huddled in groups of five and six with their backs to the sun. The streets were littered with broken wagons, smashed barrels and crates where human children fought rats for discarded orts. Goblins urinating on the steps of the Temple of Ariklon glanced up and fled in panic, thinking that their lord and master was about to descend upon them. Icthus chuckled to himself.
"What is it?" Dekor enquired his heart filled with sorrow for the destruction of lives which he somehow felt guilty for.
"They think us to be Vargor," Icthus still smiling, pointed at the goblins burrowing into piles of trash. "He would flay them for messing on that Temple."
Following the mountains, where Dekor had first encountered the One, they continued flying due south where the housing changed from mud and sticks to quarried stone. Tucked in tight into the Eastern corner, where the mountains of Meregith fused with the Dragons Teeth, a new town had sprung up. Constructed from the stone, where the tunnel had been dug to invade Mor. Houses, inns, and stables had been built from the rough stone giving the settlement a look of permanence.
Dekor heaved on Zillah's flight scales guiding her up the face of the Dragons Teeth where they swooped along the scar-like valleys flitting by the entrance of a broad-mouthed cave. "Orcs," Icthus' eyes narrowed to slits as he stared down the dark throat of the cave. "Smells of orc."
"Orcs! In Alzear?" Dekor shuddered at the thought of such things roaming the countryside he had grown up in.
"Hm, and undead." Icthus desperate to remove the taste from his tongue sat scrubbing it with Dekor's cloak. He looked quite sick. "We must rest. We do not know what we will encounter in Bethraim."
"There," Dekor pointed to a niche beneath a small overhang. Steering Zillah in a tight spiraling decent Dekor brought them in to land in near-silence, just a soft folding of wings.
"We are in luck!" Icthus jumped excitedly pointing toward the darkest corner of the niche. Pulling his bow from his back Icthus knocked an arrow letting it fly, a short bleat later a goat lie dead. Icthus was on it in a heartbeat, slitting its belly, pulling the skin back as quickly as possible, drool dripping from his mouth. Dekor cast a fireball beside Icthus for him to cook the animal on then he set a white fire-orb above them to light their camp. Zillah sniffed at the white orb grunting her approval before turning her attention toward Icthus and the discarded entrails.
"You can have," Icthus kicked the entrails away from him. Zillah bounding forward scooped up the offal swallowing it hungrily.
"Yuk," Dekor said, gently pushing Zillah's head away, the rank smell of the goat entrails on her breath caused him to gag. "I'll stick to goat meat if you don't mind," swallowing hard.
Night fell swiftly over the Dragon's Teeth its chill breath filling every crevice. Dekor shuddered shuffling closer to the fire. Closing his eyes, he drifted into a deep and peaceful sleep. Zillah stretching herself across the narrow chasm drew nearer to the fire enclosing Dekor and Icthus in a tiny corral.
Dekor awoke, the stars sparkling brightly above looked down in wonder at the sight men had not witnessed for more than four centuries. "Who are you?" The tiny man questioned. Dekor sat back against the rock face rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The little man sat cross-legged smoking a pipe of aromatic weed smiling happily at Dekor. "You ate my goat I see."
"We did not… we thought it wild," Dekor stammered, his life senses tingling feverishly.
"I jest, what would I do with such a large animal? Other than milk it, of course, quite partial to goat's milk." The little man tugged at his lace cuffs admiring them for a moment before removing the smallest kerchief from his top pocket Dekor had ever seen. "But where are my manners. I am Stefry, but don't tell anyone. I am not one to frequent the night," Stefry made a play of wiping his nose before replacing the kerchief with a flourish.
"You wrote all the books… in the University?" Dekor pointed loosely in the direction of Mor.
"If you have read them then you must be a mage," Stefry reached into his pocket pulling out a neatly wrapped parcel which he held as gently as mother cradling a newborn child. "Very rare. You can only get this in one place," he held out the open parcel, in which was a tiny blue vial pulsing with a soft blue light. "Go on, it is for you."
"What is it?" Dekor held out his hand. Stefry dropped the vial into Dekor's palm watching it roll around like a tiny jewel. "Actually, I'm a warlock."
"No difference to me. Warlock or mage. Witch or wizard. All the same to me. Drink up," Stefry said, gaily waving Dekor's hand away.
"How will I un-stopper it?" Dekor mused peering at the tiny light in his palm.
"Ah." Stefry stood to his full eighteen inches, "hold it out." Dekor held out his hand. Stefry slid a hand inside his jacket pulling out a crooked stick which he waved over the vial, "Sidasco," he said very matter-of-factually. The vial expanded rapidly until Stefry retracted his hand replacing his wand with a flourish of his wrist. "It is done." Stefry glanced around nervously. "I truly must be going.
I am due in the archive at any moment and I must ensure that this moment is not recorded. Until we next meet," Stefry removed his velvet beret bowed politely then vanished.
The phial pulsed enticingly. Dekor turned the bottle in his hand until he was holding it upright between his fingertips. With his other hand, he twisted the smooth glass stopper lifting it from the phial he took a quick sniff of its contents. Dekor's eyes sparkled, his pupils dilating, "wow!" He breathed emptying its contents into his mouth swallowing it in one gulp. Dekor gasped as the liquid rushed through his system in an excited buzz. Closing his eyes, he keeled over striking his head on a rock.
A chill breeze stirred the air in the chasm, a cold breath upon the skin. The sun would have to climb almost to its midday apex in order to warm the narrow chasm where Dekor sat gingerly inspecting the bump to his temple. "How you get that?" Icthus asked, peering closely at the small bottle in Dekor's hand.
"I do not… remember," Dekor said turning the bottle over in his hand. He sniffed at it, screwing up his face. "I cannot begin to imagine what was in it." He cast the bottle aside shattering it into tiny pieces which dissolved with a crackling-fizz.
"Hmm," Icthus mused rubbing the area where the bottle had disappeared with his foot. "Not seen the like of since… hmm," he mumbled. "Time to eat," patting his stomach he went in search of the remains of the goat. Finding none, he turned to Zillah who hung her head ashamedly.
"We'll have to hunt," Dekor said steadying himself against Icthus. "I must have hit my head quite hard. Holding his palm to his head he formed a small wedge of ice which he held against the swelling calming the angry throb in his head.
"You have mastered the elements well," Icthus pulled Dekor's hand away from his head examining the wound. "It has almost healed." Zillah leaned across them both licking the side of Dekor's face with her extremely wet tongue.
"That will help no end," Dekor patted Zillah's cheek giving her a slight push toward Icthus. "Perhaps Icthus needs healing." Icthus leapt onto the nearest rock squawking loudly. "Shall we go?" Zillah lowered herself to the ground for Dekor and Icthus to climb onto her back before leaping from one outcrop to another making her way up out of the narrow chasm into the open maw of the Dragons Teeth.
The land of Mor stretched out before them.
mor
"It is impossible to believe that so much destruction can be wrought in so little time," Dekor lamented, remembering how the village of Stone had been only a few short months ago. The walls surrounding the quarry had been reduced to heaps of rubble. Goblins sat among the rock piles hammering away in search of more of the glittering stones the dwarves had unearthed. The military barracks had been taken over by the undead, as had the inn and most of the smaller houses, the goblins preferring to build their own homes from sticks and filth. The hut where Griklag had lived was now teeming with goblins. The only thing that remained untouched was the forest; perhaps Learmont held more dangers than the horde were prepared to face. Dekor shuddered at the thought of the spiders crawling within the dense canopy.
"There are sheep there," Icthus waved excitedly over Dekor's shoulder. Zillah turned to the right, swooping toward the ground.
The sheep were happily grazing in a field where two goblins were practicing with their swords. The sky was blue, the meadow a sea of rippling grass. The sheep bleated contentedly as they walked and ate their way through the day. A shadow passed briefly over the flock, now one fewer than it was before. The goblins thrust and parried, lunging back and forth, hacking and slashing at one another with no skill whatsoever. One stared wide-eyed in terror before it ran screaming from the headless body of its sparring partner, blood spurting from the vacant space between its shoulders. Zillah tossed back her head crunching the goblin's skull in her hind teeth.
"My aunt's farm is just there. It looks as though it no one has been near it. Zillah, take us down," Dekor said, scanning the area for any signs of life.
The farm was just as he had said; untouched. The door was still locked and all of the windows remained whole.
"Curious," Dekor murmured feeling his way around the outside walls.
"Dekor?" a voice called from the rear of the house.
"Endor?" Dekor ran around the house right into the arms of his aunt Endor. "Am I glad to see you? The darkling told me that they had followed you until you just 'vanished'."
Dekor hugged his aunt until his arms ached.
"She was a one. There is more to that elf than anyone could say," Endor, holding Dekor at arm's length, peered over his shoulder at his friends. "I hope these are with you," she observed. "Especially that one," she pointed at Zillah.
"Aunt, I should like you to meet Icthus and Zillah. Unfortunately I could not bring my wife, Taarl, along."
"Wife! You have a wife?" Endor clapped her hands with glee, dancing merrily on the spot. "But where have you left her?"
"She is safe in Gamran Mire with the rest of our family," he told her, gesturing to those around him. Perhaps you could join us there?" Dekor smiled, guessing the answer already.
"You know that I could not, but I will most certainly visit. Quickly, give me your hands." Dekor held out his hands opening his mind to his aunt's enquiring thoughts. "Quite a set up," Endor smiled joyfully. "And such a pretty wife. I see from your eyes that you are soul-tied. Is Taarl a soul leech?" Endor enquired.
"She is. I can still feel her even from here, though it is faint," Dekor sighed, the longing for his mate evident in his heart.
"I will most certainly come," Endor could not keep the glee from erupting again, "and most likely stay a while. There is much I can teach you both."
Icthus tugged at Dekor's sleeve, holding up a leg of mutton for him to cook. Endor looked upon him shaking her head in wonder at the little creature.
"Aristos," she proclaimed, touching the haunch of meat with her fingertips.
Fire swept through the joint roasting the meat to perfection. Icthus bit into the leg of lamb, tearing off a mouthful. "Mine," he squawked leaping up onto the roof of the house safely out of reach.
"I guess we'll have to get our own." Dekor sighed and snatched the leg of lamb from Zillah's mouth. "Can you teach me that?" he asked Endor, loosely waving at Icthus.
"Think of the best the meat could be, then proclaim it, say it… believing what you say. Then touch the flesh with your fingertips and see it done. Now do it, not try; just do it," Endor enthused.
Dekor looking thoughtfully at the meat in hand said. "Aristos!" Touching the meat with his fingertips he jumped as white hot sparks leapt from his fingers into the meat, flowing like a cascade of stars, roasting the lamb to perfection.
"You learn well." Endor took the meat from Dekor and pulled it apart in her hands, untroubled by its heat. "Very well indeed," she nodded appreciatively wiping the juices from her mouth.
"I understand it now. I see what it is that I need and it is so." Dekor pondered over a mouthful of roast lamb. "Last night I was given something. The others were asleep when we had a visitor. A gnome, I think?"
"A gnome! In Mor?" Endor was taken aback. "I have lived in these lands many years and have never seen one. But then I have never met an ogre either and I know they live in Learmont. So, perhaps, yes," she acquiesced. "We must never be closed to such things."
"He said that his name was Stefry." Dekor jumped, startled by Icthus suddenly landing at his side.
"He gave you bottle?" Icthus asked, lifting one foot off the ground and slapping a hand to his forehead. "You drank it?"
"Y… yes, should I not have?"
"Describe it to me," Endor said, laughing at Icthus' antics.
"It was smaller than my thumbnail when he first gave it to me. It was pear-shaped with a delicate frill around the neck and a simple stopper. Then Stefry said, 'Sidasco' and the bottle grew until he removed his wand. Then I drank its contents and fell asleep," he said rubbing the bump on his head.
"Stefry! My, you were honored," Endor curtsied.
"Why?" Dekor o
ffered more meat to Endor who, shaking her head, handed the rest to the ever hungry Icthus.
"He comes from a great line of gnomes. It is said that they have connections to the elf royals. He's the author of many works." Endor looked up at the sky. "It is nearly midday. The undead patrol will be passing soon. You must go before you are seen. Where are you headed?"
"Bethraim," Dekor answered, his voice filled with regret.
"The girl's home?" Endor raised an eyebrow as if to say 'and?'
"The One," Dekor began.
"The One." Endor stopped, and turning to face him, she held Dekor by his shoulders and looked deep into his blue pupilless eyes. "What have you become? What will you be?" she asked breathlessly. "Never have I seen such a thing. There are stories from Qtar but they are only myths, hopes. But now… you…"
"What!" Dekor asked alarmed.
Endor's eyes rolled back in their sockets. "When fire and ice collude and white fire is seen upon the earth then the war to end all wars shall begin. Son will turn on father, daughter on mother and all for the glory of another. White fire will rain on dark soil where once a numerous people lived. Only a remnant shall remain to see a new city arise from the dust. Then shall my enemy become my ally and search for the last one whose death shall awaken the Sleeper." She suddenly broke from her trance.
"What was all that?" Dekor grinned, amazed at what he had seen.
"What was what?" Endor said, nonplussed.
"You know nothing of what you just said?" Dekor laughed nervously.
"I said something?" Endor, placing a hand upon her chest, drew a deep breath. "Your hand," she said holding out her other. As they touched, the moment was replayed to her from Dekor's perspective. Endor opened her eyes wide and her mouth fell open.
"Are you all right, Aunt Endor?"
"That is the Qtar prophesy. It is said to have come from the throne of heaven when Accuson was cast down among mortals, chased to his ruin by the Sleeper." Endor teetered forward into Dekor's arms, her whole body shaking. "My dear child," tears ran down her face onto the dense fabric of her blouse. "You have been called and set apart for a great task. Be careful where you put your strength. Choose your friends wisely." Endor stepped out of Dekor's arms her head bowed, eyes turned toward the pathway. "And now we have visitors."
The patrol clattered along the road toward them, the clamor of steel plate clanking against hardened bone filled the air as the four riders approached. Cold breath billowed from the nostrils of the undead war horses as the riders jumped from their backs, swords drawn at the ready.
"So the witch is out in the open," the leader of troop growled, his heavy chestplate hanging wearily to one side. "Vargor has been wanting to meet you for some time."
"Jack, behind you!" the last trooper yelled, too late.
Zillah had circled round the house keeping out of sight. Jack spun around and screamed briefly before Zillah tore off his head and spat it at his mount. The horses, though undead, still maintained a healthy fear of dragons and fled, leaving the three warriors to face Dekor and his companions.
A purple arrow lodge itself in the neck of the next warrior, wedging his head awkwardly against the high collar of his gorget. The warrior grasped at the arrow with both hands, glaring up at the roof of the house where Icthus stood gesticulating at him. He snatched the arrow from his neck. The warrior stared blinking at the shattered remnants he held in his hands. Pointing a wavering hand at Icthus the warrior fell forward, crashing into the ground his head rolling in the dirt.
"That is two of you down," Dekor remarked, one hand erupting into flames, the other glistening with frost.
"I'll take the witch," a warrior spat.
The two undead parted company. One rushed at Endor, stopping abruptly as she pointed her finger at his steel plate leggings.
"Arto," she said smiling.
The leggings creaked, groaned, then folded inward like the covers of book trapping the soldier mid-step. Endor slowly raised her finger guiding the spell upward toward the warrior's gorget. Guessing at her intent the warrior reached for the gorget's clasp, his arm freezing by his shoulder as his armor contracted tightly about his bones.
"You'll pay for this witch," the soldier groaned, choking on his last words as the gorget shrank to a tiny ring, severing his head.
"Not today." Endor snatched her hand into a fist. The warrior's armor folded in on itself with a grinding crunch of bones.
"That leaves just you." Dekor flicked his frosted hand toward the last knight, catching his left side with an icy blast locking his arm, hip, and knee in a block of ice. "What will you do now? You cannot move, and you most certainly cannot fight."
"Any undead is a match for you, boy," the warrior growled through chattering teeth. "A goblin could best you."
The warrior forced his arm forward against the ice. There was a crack as the ice split from his armor and fell to the ground with his arm still frozen inside the block.
"What?"
"I do this out of pity." Dekor stepped forward, picked up a dropped sword and, moving to the warrior's undefended side, swung it at the knight and split his skull through his mail coif. The soldier tumbled over onto his back, shattering the icy bonds, his sword spilling from his hand.
"Are you not man enough to fell me?" the warrior taunted.
"Not with all this on." Dekor slid the tip of sword under the neck of the coif, placing it firmly against the knight's neck.
"Come on boy," the warrior growled grasping the blade with his free hand, "if you can."
Dekor, staring into the lidless eyes of the undead warrior, thrust the blade right through his neck and deep into the ground until the blade severed the last sinew of flesh.
"I can," Dekor confirmed, kicking the severed head away. "That was fun while it lasted." He walked over to his aunt. "I like that spell," he said pointing to the crushed knight.
"Works just like all the others. See it, say it, do it." Endor stroked Dekor's face as they hugged one another. "You must go now, I will deal with these."
"I have no doubt that you can," Dekor said, stepping away from his aunt. "Come on Icthus, we ride. Zillah." Obediently the belkin came trotting to his side. "Farewell Aunt Endor, until we next meet.”
Dekor pulled on Zillah's flight scales commanding the beast into the air.
bethraim
The early afternoon sun smiled upon the land of Mor with the gentleness of a grandmother welcoming her family to a long awaited gathering. Goblin settlements were everywhere Dekor looked. Most were small, just a handful of stick huts around a central fire. Others were larger, complete villages with an inn and separate stables for horses and skitterlings. Many of the smaller copses and woodlands had been cut down; Dekor assumed it was for building material to make the scraggy huts. The inns, however, had been constructed from stone fully rendered with doors and windows, the workmanship of men. Perhaps more people had remained than Dekor had first thought or perhaps the undead had built them. Whichever it was, Mor looked decidedly different for it. Many of the farmsteads had gone, replaced by larger operations where goblins toiled in the fields under the watchful eyes of undead overseers. For all the world it appeared as though Mor had become a large-scale farm growing all the food for the ever increasing population.
Zillah flapped her wings to a low rhythm, the soft, steady beating of her own heart. Belgor stood like a dark stain on the horizon. Smoke rising from several fires in the forests beyond the city reminded Dekor of the night that Magnus had saved him from certain death. He looked down at the green cloak that he still wore, a trophy belonging to another. Magnus was alive, that he knew, but where he lived Dekor was none the wiser. He retraced, in his mind, the route which he had taken and remembered, now with horror, the rider he attacked less than a league from the city gate. He remembered, too, his flight from Bethraim, but try as he might he could not recall how he had arrived at his aunt's door.
"There it is," Dekor cried drawing a deep breath and trying to c
alm his anxious heart.
"Not much here." Icthus peered over Zillah's wing as they circled the village looking for a suitable place to land. The inn was the only building to remain intact, all of the others torn apart by battle. The Fighters’ Guild was a charred ruin, just a few stumps poking out of the earth like the dark fingers of some long dead beast. Houses were ransacked, a few belongings lay discarded in the streets where children once played. Rotten bodies hung through broken windows where they had been slain in their desperate attempt to escape the invading horde. Would it have been so different if men had invaded Gnell? Dekor pondered on that, guiding Zillah in to land behind the shredded remains of the town hall whose roof had been torn off, leaving the insides exposed to the elements.
"Call if anyone comes," Dekor said ducking under Zillah's head as they walked over to the inn.
Outside three skitterlings had been tied to the horse rail; the cackling laughter of their riders could be heard coming from within the inn. The skitterlings tugged at their tethers, cawing at Dekor, upset at something. Dekor turned around shaking his head at Zillah who had followed him around the inn.
"They'll give us away," Dekor admonished her.
Zillah raced around Dekor and pounced on the skitterlings, tearing one apart with a single bite while pinning the other two beneath her feet.
"Thanks, girl," Dekor said pulling Icthus to his side to keep him from joining Zillah in her feast.
"There are four goblins downstairs, and three upstairs. The ones upstairs are sleeping off their drink." Dekor looked at Icthus. "Ready?"
Opening the door, he stepped inside.
The four goblins were all sat together around a table deeply engrossed in a game of dice and did not even notice the door opening. Icthus padded over to the bar, helping himself to a large piece of freshly baked bread. Dekor went to speak but found it impossible without retching. The inn stank of excrement and old sweat. It was evident that the goblins had yet to grasp the purpose of the outhouse. The corners of the room were being used as latrines; some of it had even landed in the buckets.
Martha came out of the kitchen carrying trays of fresh food and drinks. She stood there for a moment just staring at the purple frog that was eating the food from the bar where the goblins had abandoned it. Icthus looked up at her, his bulbous eyed glinting in the light from the open kitchen door.
"Good bread," he said waving a piece at Martha, "you cook it?"
Martha threw the trays into the air, screaming as she ran back into kitchen slamming the door behind her. The rumble of the bone dice across the tavern floor was as loud as a herd of stampeding bultars.
"Human," the goblins growled, reaching for their swords and spears.
"Can't use that here," one of them said, hitting another with the back of his hand as he was about to throw a fireball at Icthus. The goblins pointed at their companion, laughing as the fireball ignited his tunic.
"Get it out, get it out!" it screamed at the top of its nasally voice.
One of them hastily grabbed the latrine bucket from the corner of the room and threw its contents over the one on fire. There was a moment's silence before the other three burst into fits of laughter at their smoldering, stinking colleague.
Icthus took the opportunity to scurry across the room and get behind Dekor who was waiting for the goblins with one hand ablaze, while in the other he held a sword of ice. With the slightest flick of his flaming hand Dekor sent a long snaking tendril of fire at the goblins. The flame coiled around a goblin's throat, searing through its flesh in a blazing garrote. Dekor snatched his hand back severing the goblin's head with a sizzle of flesh. The head rolled back, landing with a dull clank into the recently emptied bucket.
The three remaining goblins came running at Dekor, one thrusting its spear at him. Dekor parried it aside with a deft stroke of his ice blade. Then, stepping aside to avoid the sword of the next goblin, he threw a ball of fire into its face. The goblin screamed, clutching its face in its hand. It let its sword fall harmlessly to the floor. Dekor swung his ice sword upward, ramming it under the next goblin's chestplate and burying it in the soft flesh beneath. Dekor thrust again, this time lifting the goblin off its feet, his blade coming out between its neck and shoulder. Dekor pulled his hand away leaving the goblin skewered by the ice blade.
Turning slowly he faced the last goblin, its face a red mess of flesh. The goblin backed away, stumbling over its own discarded armor. It watched in terror as another ice sword formed in Dekor's hand while a burning blade appeared in his other. Dekor swept forward, swinging the two blades before him, hacking through tables, chairs, everything in his path until the craven goblin lay in pieces at his feet. The last of four goblins ran toward the bar, attempting to vault over it to safety. Dekor spun around, strode across the room, and grabbing the goblin by one shoulder he flipped it over onto its back before thrusting his fiery blade down its throat.
"You can come out now," Dekor called, extinguishing his blade.
"We've nothing for you," Martha called back from behind the door.
"I am not here to harm you. I have come in the name of the One in the hope that I can make recompense for my actions."
Dekor waited in the silence. Icthus looked up at him, pointing toward the plate of untouched food on the counter.
"Go on," Dekor slid the plate toward Icthus who took it eagerly to the nearest table.
"Can you bring our baby back?" Eliazer swung the door open, crashing it into the stores, sending loaves and meats to the floor. The door shuddered back against his foot, the heavy iron hinges groaning out their complaint.
"Maybe." Dekor stepped away from the bar, shoving the dead goblin away from his feet.
"And how would you propose to do that?" Eliazer spat.
"To search the mountains for her and try to make my peace, then perhaps …" Dekor sighed.
"You're lying." Martha stepped into the doorway, folding her arms as she leaned against the thick doorframe, her eyes locked onto Dekor.
"Not possible," Icthus chirped, tossing a large piece of cheese into the air, then snagging it with his long, sticky tongue.
"What is that?” Martha shuddered at the sight of Icthus. “Frightened the life out me, that did."
"He is Icthus, a tattlejack. I cannot lie in his presence," Dekor walked over him patting Icthus between his eyes.
"Never heard of such a thing," Eliazer grumbled, snatching the empty tray from Icthus.
"Try lying." Dekor righted a stool and sitting on it, next to Icthus, he added, "I can understand your hatred. You would not believe me if I explained that I had lost control. I thought that I could master the flame." Dekor held up a hand, staring intently at the flames licking around his fingers. "I was wrong." He looked Eliazer and Martha his eyes welling with tears. "I was just a stupid boy playing with fire. The wrong one got burnt."
"I want to kill you."
"Martha, hold your tongue woman!" Eliazer glared at his wife.
"Like I said, you cannot hold back the truth with Icthus."
"I'm so sorry for you," Martha spat back, quickly clapping a hand over her own mouth. "I'd best say nothing," she said through clenched teeth.
"You're right there, woman," said Eliazer shaking his head. "All right sonny. On that testimony, I'm prepared to believe you and this here frog. What do you propose?"
"Give me something that Dorn," Eliazer flinched at the sound of his daughter's name coming from such a mouth, "would know was from you and I will find her and give it to her. Then I will return with something from her."
"How can we trust you?" Martha, decanting some water from a pitcher into a horn, walked over to Eliazer.
"You cannot. I wouldn't if I were you," Dekor admitted. Rising from his seat he brought his hands together in front of him. Eliazer and Martha ran for cover behind the bar. "No… I… I am going to leave you something to help you with your new patrons."
As Dekor parted his hands, a white light appeared between them.
He continued to expand it until it was almost three feet in diameter. Placing the light on the table Dekor stepped away inviting Eliazer and Martha to come and inspect it.
"How do you do that?" Eliazer asked, stepping cautiously nearer.
"It might kill you," blurted Martha, silently admonishing herself.
"Quiet woman," Eliazer snapped back, inching nearer to the glowing light.
"Go on, touch it, it's quite safe," Dekor reassured Eliazer as he reached out a finger toward the light.
"It's all right. It's cold," Eliazer said pushing his hand into the light. The surface of the ball sank as Eliazer pushed his hand right through to the table. The ball quivered then split in two. "Well I never." Eliazer jumped back staring at the two bright white orbs on the table.
"You can make as many as you want. Put them everywhere. They are holy light. Nothing evil will come near them or destroy them." Dekor smiled at Eliazer.
"Here," Martha thrust something into Dekor's hand, retreating quickly. "Give Dorn that. And this," she added, tossing a loaf of freshly baked bread to Dekor.
"No eating it." Dekor put the bread on the table in front of Icthus then opened his hand to examine the item that Martha had given him. It was a raggedy cloth doll, probably older than Dorn. The face was worn and stained with use. The clothes, a brown skirt and simple yellow blouse, had been stitched on with big, clumsy stitches, those of child. The hair was sparse but soft, horsehair, combed through a thousand times. So much love had been poured into the doll Dekor knew no finer example of Dorn's parents' trust could have been placed in his hands.
"I will ensure that she receives this." Dekor tucked the doll into the breast pocket of his shirt, patting it gently over his heart.
"See that you do," Martha said sharply, snatching one of the glowing orbs from the table. Gripping the light gently between her hands Martha pulled the orb out until it was almost doubled its original size. She then dug her fingers into it, and pulling off a piece, she formed it into a small fist-sized light which she sat on the bar next to the unlit candle. Martha smiled, perhaps for the first time since they had lost Dorn. She repeated the process again and again until the surface of the bar was overflowing with lights. The two men watched on, fascinated by Martha's joy.
"Perhaps you had better do something with those before we are overrun with them, girl," Eliazer said half-laughing. "All right sonny," he turned to Dekor. "I'll trust you. Perhaps someday I might get to know why. But, before you go, what are we going to do with these four?" He gestured at the dead goblins.
"Oh, they're easily dealt with. We just need to get them outside." Dekor grabbed the feet of the nearest goblin and began dragging it outside to where Zillah was waiting. "You hungry?" Dekor asked, lifting the corpse as high as possible. Zillah sprang over to him, snatched the goblin from his hands and bit it in two, swallowing one half straight down.
"You have a dragon!" Eliazer dropped his goblin and ran back inside. "You're as mad as that dwarf, Arrborn."
"You know him?" Dekor called out as another headless corpse landed at his feet. "Would you know, perchance, where I could find him?"
"That I would. He lives in El Aroi. Got the biggest house near the market square. You can't miss it, great barn of a place. Why, are you thinking of paying him a visit too?" Eliazer stood in the doorway tossing the goblins’ heads to Zillah who seemed to be enjoying this grizzly game of catch.
"I have something that belongs to a mutual friend of ours. At least he was a friend… back then," Dekor said sadly, looking at his cloak.
"Good luck with that," Eliazer held out his hand. "Do what is right and hopefully we'll hear from you soon."
"Keep watching the skies," Dekor said climbing up onto Zillah's back.
Icthus came running from the Inn with a brown woolen sack over his shoulder looking immensely pleased with himself as he jumped up behind Dekor. Dekor shook his head in mock dismay, and the little toad grinned back grasping the sack close to his chest.
the house of Arrborn
"Have they left nothing?" Dekor asked, his eyes streaming with tears as he lamented the desolation of Mor.
"The forest is untouched," Icthus offered.
"I am not surprised. I have been through a small part of it and have met some of its inhabitants. The woodland is resistant to fire and the spiders are huge. And yet, something else far more dangerous than the spiders lurks within its depths."
"Ogres," Icthus chirped, his face buried deep within the sack.
The sky was fading to black as they passed over the house where Griklag had lived. Goblins were climbing all over the town of Stone and up into the mountains searching for a way over into Grimlaw.
"Why do they not use the tunnel?" Dekor wondered, pointing to the shimmering hole large enough for them to have flown straight through.
"Not possible. That is the Walk of Faith. You have to believe in the One to see it," Icthus said turning to look back upon Mor as they climbed higher and higher up into the Dark Iron Hills and over into the land of the dwarves.
The mountains stretched from north to south as far as the eye could see. Giant spikes thrusting up at the sky from the earth below, ready to skewer any soul foolish enough to try and breach them. Mountain after mountain passed beneath them in ever increasing darkness as they flew ever into the embrace of night.
"Do you know where El Aroi is?" Dekor asked, shaking off the cold that clawed at his flesh.
"That way, red glow is El Aroi." Icthus huddled in closer to Dekor's back as they began a slow descent toward the distant capital.
"The Great Cauldron, the belly of the Sleeper, so legend would have it. Just a volcano. Not the place that I would choose to build a city." Dekor guided Zillah in a wide arc choosing to approach El Aroi by the same route as they would on foot.
El Aroi sat at the end of a long, high-sided valley forming a funnel all the way up to the mount where the Holy Temple kept vigil over the sleeping city. Moonlight sparkled on the jewel-encrusted valley walls, making the whole approach feel as though they were flying over a vast treasure spilled out for all to see. Tiny figures patrolled the valley floor assuring order for inhabitants old and new alike. They circled the city once, spying out the market square and the oversized house that belonged to Arrborn. The three-story house was a giant among its neighbors with a fully enclosed garden illuminated by ensconced torches. A wide alleyway led around to the back where two Talloran rams were tugging at a bundle of hay. Dekor landed Zillah atop the nearest pinnacle of rock overlooking the city.
"How do I do this, Icthus?" Dekor asked, more of himself than his companion.
"Just go and knock," Icthus shrugged, folding up the empty sack.
"Have you eaten everything?" Dekor snatched the sack from Icthus and yanked it open. "It is as well that I am not hungry."
"Knock," Icthus jabbed a finger in the direction of Arrborn's house.
"We are not alone up here," Dekor remarked, sliding from Zillah's back. "Hello Buurn," he addressed the shadows.
"Your senses are greatly improved. Most people cannot detect us quite so easily," Buurn said stepping from the shadows into the moonlight. "Icthus is right. The best way is to just go and knock." Buurn smiled coyly as she leapt into the air, hovering momentarily before diving down the face of the mountain toward the city.
"Come on then, Icthus." Dekor climbed up onto Zillah and followed Buurn down toward El Aroi. "I'll land in the market square. Zillah, you'll have to find somewhere out of sight." Zillah snorted her disapproval.
"Can we help you, sirs?" asked a dwarf guard in white armor bearing the sigil of a tempest over the heart. He approached from a small sentry box. "We don't see many of those around here," he added, pointing to Icthus and Zillah with a short gladius.
"We bring no trouble. We have come to see Arrborn." Dekor stepped aside, opening his cloak to display his sword.
"That's all I need to hear. We've seen plenty o' strange folk these last months and I doubt you'll be the last. Now a
way with yer," the guard said smiling broadly as he waved them in the direction of the priest's house.
"Thank you," Dekor bowed politely, raising a chuckle from the guard. "Away you go Zillah."
Zillah bounded across the market square before leaping into the night sky and heading back to the mountains where she could keep watch over Dekor.
Dekor and Icthus strolled across the market square, Icthus looking down every alley in the hope of finding food, Dekor feeling more nervous with every step. All too soon they were standing outside Arrborn's house feeling like dwarfs before the towering wooden doors, studded with inch-thick black iron diamond-headed rivets. Dekor looked down at Icthus, gesturing toward the door. Icthus shook his head, taking a step back as the door swung open on its well-oiled hinges.
"Greetings," a familiar voice said as a lantern was held up before them.
"Buurn!" Dekor laughed. "What are you dressed as?" he asked admiring the plain white skirt and laced-up blouse. For all the world she appeared to be the housemaid.
"This is the house of Arrborn, my master," Buurn smiled wistfully.
"I am sure that no one is your master," Dekor smiled in return.
Icthus pushed passed them both, drawn to aroma of food.
"There is food on the table in the dining room, to your right." Buurn closed the door silently behind them.
"Greetings Dekor. It is good to see you again," Arrborn said, his smile lost somewhere in his thick beard, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Greetings." Icthus hugged Arrborn, leaving the empty sack in his care.
"Same old Icthus," Arrborn laughed. "Please, do sit, Dekor."
"Is that Magnus I sense?" Dekor gestured upstairs before taking up a seat at the veritable banquet set before them.
"It is. Alas, I'm afraid that the calamity in Mor has quite broken him," Arrborn sighed, staring into his empty tankard. "Buurn, if you might," he pleaded, waggling the offending article in her direction.
"I am most sorry, for I must have played a core part in his downfall." Dekor folded the cloak, placing it near the end of the table. "I came to return this," he said placing his hand upon the bundle.
"Ah." Arrborn stared at the cloak, pondering.
"Might I suggest that I put the cloak away for a better time? Perhaps when Magnus is more… able." Buurn took the cloak leaving the three men to enjoy each other's company.
"You must know, Dekor, that in Grimlaw you are guilty of nothing. I was able to get to Magnus in time to save him and the One has seen to his wounds. I must say that, myself, I do not believe you intended to kill Magnus," Arrborn reported between mouthfuls of meat and ale.
"No, I did not. Surely he knew that. I was trained with a blade as a child. If I had wanted him dead then he would be."
"Indeed." Arrborn wiping his beard with one hand reached for more ale only to find the pitcher empty. "Just cannot get the caliber of staff these days," he grumbled taking the pitcher to the kitchen. "Talk among yourselves, I won't be a moment."
Dekor and Icthus looked at one another, shrugging their shoulders, then they both returned to their meals. Arrborn reemerged from the kitchen carrying a small barrel of ale as carefully as he could to the table.
"That should do us," he looked across at Dekor then at Icthus. "Well at least me, then," he added, rubbing his hands gleefully together at the prospect.
"Are all dwarves as keen on ale as you are?" Dekor chuckled as Arrborn poured himself a third tankard of ale.
"Yes they are," Buurn reappeared, walking silently around the table as she cleared away the finished plates. "They are as passionate about fighting and even more so about their women." Buurn whispered the last words directly into Arrborn's ear.
"Preposterous," Arrborn spluttered into his tankard, his beard running with ale. "Now look what you've done, woman," Arrborn shook his fist at Buurn. "If you weren't a woman I'd show yer some passion."
"You see," Buurn smiled mockingly.
"And what are you giggling at, yer toad?" Icthus caught the hunk of bread that Arrborn had thrown at him, waving it loosely at Buurn. "You think she's funny?"
"Very," Icthus chirped.
"To business," declared Arrborn. "Now lad, I've watched you grow from a small boy. On the farm with your father and mother, until she…" Arrborn looked uneasily around the table pretending to be searching for more to eat, "left." He looked at Dekor, hoping that the boy had not seen his ploy.
"You do not have to worry, Arrborn, I have no memory of my mother. Aunt Endor is the one who raised me with my father."
"Ah, yes, Endor, she's lived in Mor a long time." Arrborn supped his ale, muttering to himself, "A very long time.” Pushing himself back in his chair he looked straight at Dekor, "So, what brings you to my door?"
"I've had time to think lately. Living up in the Mire, there is often little more to do. And living with these people," Dekor gave a courteous nod to Icthus who was rummaging through the leftovers, "I have learned to tame my thoughts as well as my tongue."
"I should imagine so. But," Arrborn waved his hand in a regal manner, "why exactly have you come here?"
"The One." Dekor readied himself for Arrborn's assault. He had witnessed many 'religious' people defending nothing more than themselves while openly criticizing someone else as not being suitable for whatever god may be in fashion. Arrborn raised a knowledgeable eyebrow. "He… err… sent me to put things right."
"Ah," Arrborn settled his tankard on the table. "Now I understand. You see, Buurn was trying, bless her, to explain your escape from her grasp. No mean feat, believe you me. There's none that hunt like a darkling. She said on the morning that they should have caught you, the whole of Meregith was shrouded in a mist that covered all tracks. You simply vanished. They guessed that you went north and were lucky enough to stumble upon your trail. Apparently you made no effort to hide it?" Dekor shook his head. "They tracked you to Icthus' hut but they could not cross the lagoon."
"They were not trying hard enough," Dekor said, drawing off a draught of ale. "I have seen something of what Buurn is capable of. She was not trying to catch me. Neither was Regis. He may have acted as though he was doing his best, but I suspect that he may have been wearing inappropriate clothing for the marshes."
"Indeed," Arrborn mused.
"Garrant believed that you were destined for greater things than war. I think that he may be right." Arrborn drew a long, slow breath, pausing before he let it out. "Where to next, for you two?"
"Dorn," Icthus chirped, stacking the empty plates to one side. "We seek Dorn in the mountains." He slipped from his chair taking the empty plates out to kitchen.
"You believe that's where she may be, eh?" Arrborn stared at Dekor, his bright blue eyes gleaming beneath his thick eyebrows.
"She is in the dragon's lair on the Black Iron Hills where they fall into the sea," Dekor smiled back at Arrborn and slid his untouched tankard back onto the table. "It's not for me."
"Good luck," Arrborn lifted Dekor's tankard in a toast. "You've got a tough ride ahead of you, I wish you well."
Arrborn jumped down from his seat, steadying himself against the table. "Wish her all the best from me won't you. Now… I need to sleep, so if yer don't mind I'll just…" Arrborn's head hit the floor with a deft bang. A moment later he was snoring contentedly.
"Made it a bit further than usual," Buurn observed, lifting the sleeping dwarf from the floor with one hand. "If in your travels you ever run into Lon, in Nitewold, let him know that Arrborn is well." Bowing politely, she carried Arrborn out of the room. "You may stay or you may go. Should you leave, I am sorry but you will have to see yourself out."
Dorn
"How long have they been there?" Dorn asked, the sound of bleating still ringing in her ears.
"They came yesterday, at first light," Thunderborn said sliding the sharpening stone down the long, heavy blade. "He was a strange one, that priest."
"Indeed," Dorn hefted Emun into her arms before he could reach Thund
erborn's sword. "I have met him a number of times and each time he seems different from the last."
"How so?" Thunderborn lifted the dark sword easily in one hand, feeling its weight. "This is a fine weapon. Dwarf craftsmanship. Black iron through and through," he said in a low, contented growl.
Dorn smiled. "I've heard men talk to girls the way that you talk about that steel. But you'd never find Arrborn talk that way about anything. It's all in his eyes, pretty little beads they are, full of mischief and wonder. I've often wondered just what he's thinking about when I talk to him. It's as though he was talking to me but listening out for another."
"Is he not a follower of the One?" Thunderborn swung the sword about his head in a slow, precise arc, finishing the move by drawing the blade across his chest, a hunter drawing an arrow.
"He is. That is what confuses me." Dorn snuggled Emun beneath her shirt. "Don't bite," she yelped. "What was I saying? Oh yes, Arrborn. I've met religious people of all types in the inn," she mused, "but he is different. He enjoys himself, a little too much at times. Most religious folk have a whole lot of rules about food and drink, Arrborn just has what he wants and gets on with it. Never told anyone else what was right and wrong in whatever they ate or drank, though many would try to tell him. "
"I can only imagine. I have never been among men or dwarves before, only my own kind and centaurs. Men are a mystery and more so their women." Thunderborn sighed, placing the sharpened sword in a recess out of Emun's reach.
"They have moved," Dorn said lifting Emun to her shoulder and patting his back firmly. "I will be glad when he loses his taste for my milk.”
"Greetings," Dekor's swallowing could be heard in the depths of the cavern.
"Hello," Dorn replied, swapping Emun to her other shoulder.
"You have a child." Dekor shuffled his feet. "I…"
"You have a son," Dorn said, settling herself on a rock. "His name is Emun."
"Oh, I…" Dekor stammered, stepping closer.
"That will be far enough." Thunderborn stepped between them.
"He has not come to harm," Icthus chirped, tasting the air with his tongue. "Spider meat?" He smacked his lips in anticipation of a meal.
"I do not know you tattlejack, but I know of your kind." Thunderborn stepped back. Turning to Dorn he said, "It is not possible to lie in the company of one such as this." He pointed at Icthus.
"This is Icthus, my companion," Dekor stood Icthus in front of him. "The belkin is my pet."
"And that one is mine," Dorn pointed at the dark shape clinging to the wall of the mountain.
Dekor turned slowly around, his eyes widening as he took in the size of Aaron. Zillah rolled onto her side, her tail tucked between her legs. "Thanks for the protection, Zillah," Dekor laughed. "I shall be very careful in what I say." Dekor backed into the cavern as Aaron stepped purposefully toward them.
"Pet indeed!" Aaron growled. "Well, young warlock. What brings you to my home?" Aaron lay across the entrance to the cavern blocking off the only possible exit.
"I have come in hope of putting things right, if that is possible." Dekor looked from Aaron to Dorn. "I never intended any harm… to anyone." He shrugged. "I was seduced by the flame. Thought I could be its master. It is no excuse for what I have done to you," he said, through quivering lips. "Is… is Emun well?"
"Very," Dorn replied holding Emun out to him.
"No… I…" Dekor stammered.
"To come here took much courage," Thunderborn handed Dekor some roast spider meat. Icthus stared at it longingly. "There is plenty for you, Icthus," Thunderborn chuckled. Icthus ran over to where the spider was roasting and helped himself to some.
"I came only in the strength of the One. Without him, I would have been dead long ago," Dekor bit off a mouthful of the meat, wiping the juices from his chin with the back of his hand. "This is good," he said taking another bite.
"I had never thought to meet you," Dorn said, once again offering Emun to Dekor. "He won't bite… unless you try to feed him."
Dekor wiped his hands on his coat and, taking hold of Emun, he looked deep into the child's eyes. Dekor blinked, startled at what he saw, not a child but a man, a warrior.
"What is it that you see?" Thunderborn asked gently lifting Emun from Dekor's outstretched arms.
"I do not know. Are you to train him in the ways of the warrior? You are clearly an adept," Dekor pointed to Thunderborn's feet. "You stand in a defensive posture."
"You are most observant, Dekor. I am indeed versed in combat. Built for war."
"Then Emun is in perfect hands. With such guardians, he will do well." He turned to Dorn, slipping his hand inside his pocket. "I promised your mother that I would give you this."
Dorn stared at the tiny doll as though she had been given the greatest of all treasures. "My mother is well?"
"Both of your parents are well. I left them this to protect them," Dekor summoned a white light, floating it gently across the cavern toward the fire.
Aaron lifted his head toward the orb, "Holy light. This I have not seen since the gnomes…"
"It will ward off any evil from them. They still live at the inn in Bethraim." Dekor looked accusingly at Icthus and added, "We had bread, but Icthus has a bottomless pit for a stomach."
"So long as they are well, there is hope for them." Dorn waggled the doll in front of Emun who reached out eager hands toward it only to be denied by his mother. "Not yet, on the morrow you may have it or you'll not sleep."
"Would you rest the night here?" Aaron asked as Zillah nestled herself against his side.
"Looks like it has already been decided." Dekor smiled at his dragon purring contentedly at Aaron's side. She looked no more than a tiny kitten.
"Dekor," Dorn took his hand in her own, startling him, "I hold nothing against you. That may seem odd to you, but Emun is like a reward. I was taken from my mother and father; that hurt me more than anything you did." Tears flowed down Dekor's cheeks, and he did nothing to prevent them falling to the dry earth. "I have learned to trust in the One, as you have. Our paths could not have been more different. Stay a night, as one of us, as family."
Dekor sat back against an enormous rock, sobbing heavily.
"You are leaking," Icthus said, offering Dekor the last of his spider meat.
"Icthus." Dekor pulled the little reptile close, hugging him. Icthus squawked but did not try to get away.
Night fell on the dragon's lair as the sun slid ever westward taking its light over the Churning Seas where it would attempt to shed light on the shores of Narelzbad.
the bronze sea
Icthus sat wide-eyed in both terror and wonder at Dekor's body, at the soft lights dancing upon it, not moving even when Dekor vanished.
"What do you see?" A gentle, fatherly voice spoke into the room.
Dekor rose to his feet, shielding his eyes from the bright light that surrounded him.
"I see nothing but light." Lowering his hand Dekor tentatively stepped forward, bumping into something immovable.
"Open your eyes fully and look," the voice said in smiling tones.
Dekor opened his eyes expecting to feel the probing fire of the light. There was none. For what felt like the longest while, Dekor stared down at the table, at the clouds, mountains, seas, and the dust-like particles that moved upon its surface.
"I see a world, a living world." Dekor leaned closer, touching a cloud as delicately as possible, but even so his finger passed right through it sending the vapor into a swirling maelstrom. “This is Grimlaw. I recognize the volcano and lay of the mountains. From this height, it looks as though an immense dragon is buried across the whole of Alzear."
"What you have seen is true. That is Grimlaw, and that is the dragon that chased Accuson from the heavenlies." The light withdrew itself to the throne forming the image of a man bathed in white light, disguising his features.
"That's just a story." Dekor lifted his gaze toward the throne, falling to his knees at the sight of
the One seated upon it. "I am sorry, forgive me Lord, I did not mean to look directly upon you. I…"
"I am not bothered, offended, or affronted by your gaze. In truth, it is most welcome. At least then I can look upon you," the One replied smiling.
Dekor rose to his feet with a feeling that, at last, someone approved of him. "Thank you."
"The pleasure is mine, my dear child. Tell me, do you know where you are?"
"I am dreaming for I am sleeping in the dragon's lair with Icthus and the others," Dekor said peering at the table, trying to locate the cavern on the map. "There," he pointed.
"Ah, you think you are still asleep in the bowels of the great beast." The One rose to his feet and walked over to the bronze table. Sweeping his hand through the sky above the cavern the One swung the map around, zooming in on the cavern.
Aaron was sleeping peaceably with Zillah stretched along his side. Thunderborn slept facing the entrance with Dorn and Emun close behind him. Then there was Icthus, staring at the space where Dekor had been.
"I am not there." Dekor patted himself down as though he was making sure that he was indeed real. "But where?" Dekor turned slowly around on the spot taking in every detail of the room. The three tall, arched windows, the bare, gold-marbled floor, the throne, about as ordinary a seat as he had seen anywhere. Ante-rooms leading off to either side of the throne, the Bronze Sea, and lastly the One standing with his hands nested together. "I am before the Bronze Sea in the throne room of grace. And you are… the One."
"That is also all true," the One reached out his hand, placing it gently upon Dekor's shoulder. "And you, my dear child, are my chosen implement to unite the kingdom of the trolls." The One looked down upon the map and swept his hand across it, changing the image to display Gamran Thorn and Mire. The dark of night hung over the map where campfires sparked and spat among the scattered tribes. "But these are not all." The map shifted again, sweeping southward, following the same route over the Dragon’s Teeth which Dekor had taken on his journey to Bethraim. On the map sped, swinging left and right as it snaked through valleys and along pathways. Over the Tibus into Drakeshire, beneath the veil of death where the living dead staggered mindlessly in numbers beyond counting. "Now I want you to imagine yourself there," the One said, pointing at the map. Without questioning Dekor obeyed.
The wind rushed through Dekor's clothing, though he felt no chill. He could smell the veil of death hanging over Drakeshire; he could see the undead herding the zombified inhabitants into decrepit, moss-covered barns. Skeletal horses waited at hitching posts staring blindly at the bales of rotting hay. Deep into the heart of Drakeshire, where no living being had set foot in centuries, Dekor swept along the cobbled pathways where moss and weeds fought among the cracks. Up the snaking path and through the fortified pass where the watchmen of Salzear eyed the veil with fear and loathing, into the unchartered realms of the southern kingdoms.
Mountains, hills, valleys, deserts and dense jungles: Salzear had them all. Perching high among the forested slopes where the pines scraped the sky, Wyverns, with their tails wrapped tightly around the swaying pine trunks, clawed at one another in territorial dispute. The pine forests gave way to bracken-faced hills teeming with trolls. Eagles the size of belkins swooped down into the valleys, snatching up cattle on the hoof before wheeling around and heading back to their mountain aeries and the ravenous young.
To his right Dekor could see the earth turn to sand, rippling in the heat; to his left the biomes of the jungle wrapped themselves tightly together with vine-like arms, and it was into this jungle that he flew. Branches, leaves, and vines formed a verdant canopy beneath which an abundance of life thrived. The sounds of primates, parrots, and the myriad insects assaulted his ears as the jungle blurred past. There, in the midst of it all was hut, similar to those found among the Thorn, and outside sat the largest troll that Dekor had ever seen. And there, the flight ended.
Dekor stood beside the Bronze Sea, his heart racing with excitement. Panting breathlessly, he closed his eyes, recalling every aspect of his journey; the sounds, sights, and smells. Salzear whispered his name calling to him with a promise of adventure.
A scuffling sound to his right startled him. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring into the watchful gaze of Icthus. Outside the cavern the morning sun was peering over the crest of the horizon warming the face of the Black Iron Mountains.
It would soon be time to depart.
Thank you
Firstly, thank you for downloading and reading Young Warlock. I would really appreciate your feedback, if you could kindly leave a review wherever you downloaded this book from that would great.
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Much appreciated.
Mathew Bridle
Glossary